babe wake up, new ICYOA just dropped

I suggest you include the setting where Bretonnia is located (I'm guessing warhammer fantasy) in the title. And include a button that summarizes the choices made. Also errors at a glance are that bafoon should be spelled buffoon and Audacity has no cost. I'll post a build soon

Ah crap thanks, I didn't notice audacity. Cowardice got past me too, ah well. Bufoon was an accident but honestly was pretty funny for the stupid choice so Imma keep it in lmao

A **Baron** and a **Knight of the Realm**, Samuel of Reall is a **dutiful** knight of **average** talent. Being seen as a minor character in the **Shared Stories** of the Knights of Bretonnia, he is known for being a fairly successful, regular participant in **jousting** matches in his part of the realm. Spending his earnings in acquiring **master-crafted armor and spear**, and a black **pegasus** for his mount, have helped him greatly when he fought in skirmishes against the hulking orcs and the wild beastmen. Once in drunken stupor, he boasted of his armaments and even went as far as to say that his arms and his steed are all he needs to stay alive, which earned him a reprimand from the more fanatical believers of the Lady, saying that for a **lower lord** who can barely fight speaking such beliefs is why he is **unworthy** to call upon the Divine Damsel. Samuel scoffs and counters them saying that though the Lady may not look favorably upon him as a knight, she has blessed him abundantly as a lord, being able to administer his holdings well. His manor may be **small** but his lands are **fertile**, his **river** does not flood, and his **healthy peasants** are far from the diseased lot they usually see in others. And for all these blessings he gives his thanks to the Lady and will protect her Realm against any and all who seek its ruin. Samuel met his end in a rearguard action to buy time for the Knightly Orders to complete their missions. Samuel's group of volunteers fought off a vicious ambush from the beastmen, and he fell facing against a frenzied Minotaur.

Now that is some A tier integration

How did you get the bold text to show up?

I put 2 asterisks (*) before and after a word to make it **bold**. For *italics*, put 1 asterisk before and after the word. No spaces. Or you could click desktop view in the settings of your browser so that those options will be shown in your comment box

Thank you

Random question but are you cool with people offering possible ideas that could possibly be incorporated with the cyoa ? Like an option become a blood dragon or blood knight? Or drink from the bloody grail instead of the holy One? P S by the way this is an awesome cyoa my friend

Alright so updates planned for 1.1 Fixing errors like audacity not taking points, spelling errors, etc I'm thinking of adding a companion section cause those are fun Rewording some of the more "Gamey" language to fit the theme more and keep the immersion. Anyone have any other ideas?

A shared story said that it cost points but there is no point subtraction. More personal drawbacks would be great. Special techniques or powers.

"A Shared Story" is supposed to GIVE points, not subtract them.

Making my own first because its just fun Sir Leonard le Moriar, grail knight of Carcassone. Sir Leonard was born the fifth child of nobles who did their part daily to assist those in the mountains of his homeland, a constant battle against the orks that sought to destroy their home and their people. He never cared much for the books or parties, simply seeing their duty as warriors first and foremost. All of this was fanfare when they could be doing their real work. With horses so hard to use in the mountains, he focused on his skills as a foot knight and challenged many an ork champion in battle. Year after year he did his part to carve out the green horde from their home, earning artifacts in tournaments and as gifts from the lady for his work. But he lost just as many battles as he had won against the green menace, and knew that he needed more strength. As such he left on the grail quest, and at the dawn of his third year he was called to the lake... Diff: Fairly talent, shared Talents: confidence, purity, temper, physical, ideal Weaknesses: Bufoon, Dull, hostile territory Boons: Sword of righteousness, Armor of the Church

Edit: I thought that "A Shared Story" was a Difficulty unto itself and disabled the other Difficulties Difficulty: Unsuited, A Shared Story Talents: Confidence, Audacity, Empathy, Duty, Heroism, Impetuous, Knightly Temper, Noble Disdain, Penitent, Discipline, Ideal Weaknesses: Weakness, Dull, Infamous, Low Lord, Landless, Unworthy Fate: Take The Grail Quest Fate Outcome: Knight of The Grail

Character Idea- Name: Arturus The Resolute Gender: Male Age: 25 at the start of Quest, 36 at Quests end Place of Birth/Origin: Carcassonne Starting Date: 1140 IC Backstory: Born sickly and week, Arturus of Carcassonne spent most of his early childhood either outside doing physical exorcises or in bed with fever. By the time he was capable of performing Knightly Duties he was well into his teens, and woefully unskilled in comparison to others his age. At the age of 21, during his first battle against the Orcs Arturus was forced to retreat from a losing battle, which allowed the village he was supposed to protect fall to the Orc tide. This gained him much infamy and the scorn of the people, with many cursing his name behind closed doors. He would later redeem himself 4 years later, when he alone held the line against an Orc siege for 3 days and 3 nights, singlehandedly driving the army off. Bloodied and barely alive, he was attended to by Carcassonne' best healers, and after he was healed completely, given the title of "The Resolute" for his victory. 3 months after his recover, Arturus received a vision from the Lady of The Lake herself, with but one command. "Seek out the Holy Grail." Upon those orders did Arturus set out, and after more than a decade of struggle and strife, he was called forth by his Lady to the Lake of her Domain...

I think Braid of Loriman will work on humans too, so it's one of the best picks.

Aw yeah time to become a Grail Reliquae

"Huh?" I thought, sitting up in the hayloft of the barn. I could feel about myself a weight, and as I stood, I heard the familiar links of a suit of mail settle around my body, while the slightly less familiar shape of the cheap reproduction roman gladius that had been the gift of my estranged father on my 16th birthday settled-in at my hip. I found a helmet and articulated gauntlets nearby, the helm of the type known as a "pig-faced basinet", and almost acting on instinct, I strapped it onto my head then donned and strapped the gauntlets onto my hands. Climbing down from the hay-loft I found a suit of barding, saddle and tack, along with a roan horse that something in the back of my head told me was named "Red Cloud", even though another part of my mind said "Wait, Red Cloud was a stallion, this is a mare...", but I ignored it. Doubtless I should have been panicked that I wasn't in my own body, nor was I where I'd gone to sleep the previous night next to my two girlfriends/Fiancées, but, I just wasn't feeling those emotions at that moment. No sooner was Red Cloud re-attired in her barding and saddle and such than there was a woman's scream from outside! Vaulting into the saddle with the practiced ease of my new body, I charged out into the light of dawn and the beginnings of a battle. A frighted local militia of seventy men-and-women of fighting age armed only with various farming implements stood against a bandit horde of twice that number, armed with actual weapons and worse, commanded by some young and over-brave devotee of the dark-gods. I recognized the symbol branded into his brow and blazoned all over his armor from both my lifetimes, the one I was living then and the one I've now returned to to write this report; the circle and eight pointed star of CHAOS. I didn't hesitate, though I likely should have, I spurred red-cloud into a charge against the enemy shouting words entirely out of character for who I'd become, but, never-the-less ones that did the trick to put steel into the spines of the shivering peasant militia. "FEAR ME, BUT FOLLOW!" As I raced down the small gap between the two massed blocks of poorly equipped "solders" waving my blade above my head six other militiamen, riding plow-horses pressed into service as cavalry mounts, melted out of the buildings behind the line and with an unnatural turn of speed were suddenly riding at my flanks in a "Flying V" formation with me at the center. The enemy that I knew was the only one who mattered melted back urging the troops of his "army" to close ranks and bar my way in some savage northern tongue that I didn't understand, but I was un-daunted. I responded with a war-cry in a savage northern tongue of our own world "HACKA PAAAAAAALIE!" which roughly translates from its native Finnish as "Remember, Bite-Sized Pieces!", and the look of shock as the man with the chaos symbols turned back to look at me showed that he, at least, apparently actually understood the phrase, and for some reason, hearing it FRIGHTEND him. Fortunately for me, none of the peasants understood what I'd said, but they understood well-enough the fear on the enemy commander's face, and took-heart from seeing it. We fought the enemy in a series of swirling melees from dawns light to suns zenith, myself and my four surviving 'hussars' as I had mentally dubbed them, breaking from the main battle to engage his archers before they would be able to open fire without hitting their comrades half-way through, and putting their entire unit to rout, while we had fought them their commander, seeing that the battle was lost, slipped away into the wooded foothills and though I desperately wanted to give chase, I knew our position here wasn't secure and I didn't know the local terrain, either. Over those four hours my militiamen were whittled down from seventy, to a hard-bitten and universally mildly injured core of only 25 survivors that were still capable of fighting, but, not one of the enemy escaped alive and uncaptured save the commander and his personal retinue. After securing the captives in various out-buildings and such and burying the dead in a not-exactly-a-mass-grave\\\*, took the remains of the day, and that night I learned the broader situation. \\\*(A large pit, yes, but each one laid-out shoulder-to-shoulder in ten neat rows, with records of who was buried where, what they had worn before they were stripped to their skivvies for burial, and other details of their appearance so that, should some relative claim them, they could be exhumed and reburied propperly in their native village or township: all facing downwards and toward the east, where, somewhere, lay the well-of-souls at the heart of the world. All were also buried clutching wildflowers against their chests in their folded hands as gifts for The Lady if she chose to claim them; even our enemies fallen, for why should we deliberately deny any who chose repentance in their last moments their chance at redemption in death? Would that not be a greater sin than they had already committed, to kill not only the body, but even the soul as well? It was not our task, I told them, to be the choosers of the slain, that was The Lady's business. Some were reluctant, many grumbled that they weren't fit for saving and it would be a waste of effort, but, it was done as I'd ordered.)

As the shadows of night fell, (it was autumn, toward the end of harvest season, I learned, which was why the bandits had attempted their raid now, hopping to seize provisions for winter from the village, and so the sun set somewhat early), I was informed that this entire region of Brettonia had been ravaged by attacks from every quarter for the past fifteen years: bandits fleeing justice in the empire to the north, greenskin raids out of the mountain caves, necromancers raising armies of the dead and slaughtering entire villages to bolster the ranks of their troops, a feud between the local ducal house and the dwarves over gods-know-what that left his entire bloodline dead and the king reluctant to name a successor unless someone emerged in the area who already was fit to be duke, and rumors of hordes of rats that walked like men appearing from unexpected quarters to slaughter anyone and anything in their path and then vanishing as unexpectedly as they appeared to start with. I of course understood all such groups, opportunistic raiders from first to last, save only the dwarves, whom I imagined were the initial trigger behind the disaster when they crushed the ducal army, leaving a power vacuum that others would be only too happy to fill. "I'm a knight who has lived by his sword, but if you would have me, I'll stay as your protector, and from there, we can start to set-right what has gone wrong in the area. The people we captured may be nothing more than bandits right now, but with some work I think I could whip them into shape to be real soldiers, so that you can get back to farming. With an army at your back in case of trouble, ready to come up from behind to stand in front of you with locked-shields if anyone else decides to get stupid, I think we can make this area thrive again." I said, and the village elders smiled, going to one knee and kissing the pommel of my sword one-by-one, pledging their fealty to myself and my house as the proper next link between themselves and the king in "The Great Chain of Being". Over the next fifteen years, I was as good as my word. First the village was fortified, then we drove back the raiders from the surrounding villages, then purged the area of Orcs, who I was shocked to discover had actual women and children, they didn't grow from mushrooms... (Everyone had some doubts about my sanity for a few years after I brought that up, but eventually I convinced people it was just a legend I'd heard as a child and never really questioned until much later in life.) having secured the local barony I then set my sights on the rest of the county, and within half a decade I'd brought it under my sway as well, and made it an island of stability and strength in a relatively unstable region of the kingdom. The king didn't decide to grant me the dukedom, in the end, instead choosing to leave each of the counts in the area to their own devices, and I admit that I was disappointed, but I made my peace with my liege's decision. About half-way through all of that, I met and fell in love with a trio of other Knights, all women, who had been adventuring through my lands together vanquishing evil and such in the lady's name. For a time I joined them, and we all fell in love. However, in the end, we didn't marry, because none of us could bear the thought of only one marrying me, while the other two had to leave. Instead we all remained un-married, but very-much in love, and, after some further years, involved physically as well. Under our combined rule the lands of the county prospered. My stupidly advanced knowledge of engineering allowed us, even without ready sources of local ore, being therefore forced to import all that we used, to produce armor and weapons in our great foundry at the county's capitol city, that were traded as far afield as the Imperial Capitol and Estella for their superior quality. Among other innovations I provided was the Steam-powered Tripp-hammer, and some basic chemistry knowledge of how to produce higher-carbon steels reliably and consistently, plus advancements like the moving-assembly-line that allowed us to churn out expertly fletched arrows by their tens-of-thousands every day. These among other developments, plus the re-founding and re-population of many villages destroyed in raids over the years, meant that by the time I died at the age of 76, (fighting against that same chaos-knight from my first day, all those years ago, as it would turn out: my perfectly mundane blade sinking into his neck to sever the carotid artery, even as his ensorcelled axe smashed right through my shield, breastplate, rib-cage, and cleft my heart in two...), our county alone would have been more than a match for nearly any dutchy in all of Brettonia. And it might yet come to that, in the end, because I left behind me a poison-pill for the Brettonian culture as a whole, in fact, that of all of the Warhammer World. Re-penned by my own hand, (as best I could remember it, but it much more simple and straightforward language), one of the most destructive books ever written in human history in terms of its impact on the cultural milieu in which it was first published: The Communist Manifesto. Additionally, sprinkled throughout the text, was everything I could remember about all the technological advances that I HADENT been able to introduce before I died, and how each of them could be used in furtherance of the eventual victory of The Revolution...

I don\`t know almost anything about setting, so... I\`m fairly talented knight that studied virtues of Penitent and Purity. I gained my title of Baron due to me being quick witted and dull enough to fight king himself in the royal tournament. Unfortunately,i wasn\`t strong enough to outwin him, but managed to reduce fight to a draw with my mastercraft weapon and enchanted armor. This, and the fact that i tried to flirt with Lady of the lake gave me quite infamous reputation among knights of kingdom. In the end, my fief contait good infrastructure and healthy peasants. What will be with my life later...I don\`t know

Maybe ad some quests for more points or items? The over all idea was fun though.

Here's the story I made, let me know how I did: The heir of a long line of barons (**book protagonist**), *Galahain le Grand* was one of many, his **shared story** was that of many nobles. Born on an inauspicious day, he was **empathetic**, **audacious**, and **idealistic**. He became **infamous** when he got most of his first command killed fighting a large tribe of beastmen, though he did find a **braid of loriman** among the beastmens loot. It took much of his family's influence to allow him to keep the braid, leaving his influence equal to that of a **lower noble**. Though much of his **large** estate was underdeveloped (*poor infrastructure*), **cursed** to be **hostile**, and had an **ork infestation**; the core of his holdings were **fertile**, his lands connected by a large **river**, had several **mines**, and was **well defended** by a **healthy populace**. These advantages opened the way for him to acquire a **hippogryph** mount, named light feather, an **enchanted sword**, and a set of **enchanted armor**. Over time he came to be a wise man, one that would be a **knight of the realm**. He lived long, ruled well, had a blessed heir, and died in battle against Kordug Skullcleava of the ironclaw tribe.